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Monday, February 03, 2003
The Enemies of The Future
(With apologies to Virginia Postrel for swiping her title.)
Right here folks, is the enemy of all I hold dear:
I'm sure the Independent would be contemptuous of the idea of exploration for its own sake---too many dark similarites to the colonial era, you know, and no doubt just a cover for the expansion of new markets to the moons and resulting in the repression of the rocks.
Unspeakable. Bastards. Not for their revolting schadenfreude, but for the assertion that there is such a thing as a limit on human endeavor. Guess now that there's no Soviet Union to showcase the achievements of socialism, the Independent has no need of space exploration.
Frankly, the phrase "coming to terms with the limits of human endeavour" simply does not parse for me. It makes no sense.
I'll also point that the salutary chastening effects of American "humiliation" on September 11th---which the readers of the Sydney Morning Herald so looked forward to---have yet to manifest themselves. (Hint: The loss of the Columbia isn't going to do it either.)
Not only smug, cruel, and blinkered, but willfully stupid, too. That's no way to go through life, son.
UPDATE: Emily Jones, just beginning her nicotine withdrawal, has words. Kill and eat a Guardian reporter, Emily. It'll make it all better.